Exposure
by Kadow
Summary: A girl woke up in a forest. She was bloody. She was holding a knife. The first thing she remembers? A name. Castiel. But that's all she can think of. She wants to remember everything. Her life, family. But after getting found by two men in a black muscle car, she'll find out more about her past than she would ever want to.
1. Burn

**_I don't own any of the characters except for Quinn James_**

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><p>Castiel. Castiel. Castiel...<p>

What the hell is a Castiel?

Who am I? Where am I? How do I get here? Why...is there a knife in my hand? Why does nothing feel real? Why can't I think of anything but that one word...

Is it my name? No, probably not. Doesn't sound normal. I don't know what normal is.

Why am I in a forest? Why is there something red, blood, maybe, on my shirt? No, it shouldn't be blood. Why would it be blood? But..I do have a knife in my hand..

I have to get out of here.

Those were my thoughts when I woke up gasping for air.

The forest was very intimidating. The darkness. Yes, it was nighttime. All the trees looked like they were out to get me. The grass was full of mud, and I could feel some rain falling onto my face. Not a complete storm, but a light drizzle. There were tree stumps everywhere. A tree huggers worst nightmare, I assume. The crescent-moon had settled in the middle of the sky, among the stars. All around me I can hear crickets chirping and birds flying over my head. The sounds seemed like they were closing in as I coughed. I felt tired and I was scared. I looked at my clothes. I was wearing skinny jeans, a t-shirt with the words 'I'll make better mistakes tomorrow' and a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up half-way. Was this my style? Did I even have a style?

I felt like I could barely move. Everyone hurt. My throat was amazingly sore. I didn't want to get up. Couldn't I just wait until somebody found me? After a few minutes of just lying there, I sat up slowly. I then got to my feet, stumbling. I then began to run.

I ran through the trees in the direction a dim light was coming from. I gasped and panted and saw a road. I ran straight across. I didn't look for cars.

Oh, how I should have.

I ran as fast as I could. And heard a car horn. I didn't look. I didn't stop running. I reached the other side of the road, which had more forest. I heard car doors.

'Hey!' A voice shouted.

I sighed, and slowly turned.

'What are you doing?' The voice half-shouted.

It was two guys. One was taller than the other. The taller one had long-ish hair, and the shorter one had a sort of comb-over thing. I don't really know how to describe it. The taller one wore a flannel shirt and jeans while the shorter one wore jeans, a t-shirt, an open flannel and a brown leather jacket. She shorter one had his hand on his waist, as if to grab something.

I was quiet when I answered. 'I..I don't know.'

The taller one came to stand next to the other guy. The shorter one stepped forward. He took his hand off his waist. He was calmer.

'What's your name?' The shorter one huffed.

I looked down for a bit. I kept my head down but lifted my eyes to his level. 'I don't know. I can't remember.'

I then realized I still had that knife in my left hand and I was still covering my stained torso with my right. I didn't want to hold it. I didn't know what they'd think, but I did it anyway.

I held it out and I dropped it. I took my right arm away from my torso.

Both men looked equally terrified.

'I don't know what happened..' I whispered, just loud enough for them to hear. 'I woke up over there...I don't know my name, how old I am, where I'm from..'

Both men looked at each other. The taller one stepped over and I didn't back away. He gently grabbed my wrist, with my consent, and splashes water on it, for some reason. I look up at him, confused.

'Dean,' the taller one muttered. That was his name, I was guessing. He looked down at the knife I dropped. He then took a different one out. I stared at him, shocked.

'Don't worry,' he said, to calm me down, 'it doesn't really hurt. Precautions.'

Again, somebody grabbed my arm, and made a small cut just around where my bicep muscles would be. It slightly hurt, but as he said, it wasn't what I'd expected. They both looked at each other. Then back at me.

'Come with us,' Dean muttered, already leading me to the car.

'Dean? You sure?' the taller one asked.

Dean sighed. 'Yeah, I'm sure. C'mon,' he said to me. Not having any sense to do anything else, I followed. The taller one was still uncertain, I was sure of it. Still, he opened the door for the backseat for me, and after I sat down, he closed it. Then, he got in the front. Dean got in the driver's seat.

'I'm Dean,' he said, even though I already knew. 'That's Sam.'

I nodded meekly. It was quiet as they started the car up again. I wasn't going to ask where they were going.

I asked a question I needed to know the answer to.

'Do either of you know what a Castiel is?' I said quietly.

Sam turned his head sharply to face me. He looked at Dean. Dean glanced at Sam.

Dean pulled the car over immediately. They both got out. I peeked out of the window at times. Sam was talking on the phone. After five minutes, Dean took the phone from him. It was another ten minutes before they got back in the car. Dean started it again.

'We're taking you to our motel, okay?' Sam told me. I stared out the window. When he spoke, I looked over at him and nodded. Then, back at the window.

I wondered what they thought of me. To them, was I just a scared child? What would I have acted like if I'd had my memories? Would I be perky and confident, or shy but playful? Did I have parents? What would they be like?

The small cut that Dean made had gotten more blood on my shirt.

It wasn't as much as they pool that had soaked into my shirt.

Why didn't I feel pain? I felt sore, but what caused the blood?

I'd see when we got wherever we were going.

After a few minutes in the car, I began to rest my head against the window. It was cold, but noy cold enough to force me to take my face away. I closed my eyes but didn't sleep. I was scared to drift into unconsciousness, as if I'd never overcome it.

They thought I was asleep, and began to talk.

'What the hell did Cas do?' Dean muttered angrily.

'Dean, what if it's just a coincidence?' Sam thought, his head against his hand, which was leaning against the window.

'Rule that one out. C'mon, Sam, I doubt she woke up out of what could've been a coma, only to think of a damn angel's name. Not something I'd be thinking about if I couldn't remember my _own_ name.'

'What did Cas say to you?' Sam asked, sighing.

'Nothing much. He tried to tell me that he didn't know anything, but he can't lie. He said he would try to find some stuff out, see if anyone else had any idea, then he'd come to us.'

'And if he doesn't find anything?' Sam took his arm from his head, looking at Dean.

Dean sighed, probably hoping he wouldn't have to do the work. 'Then we'll have to. Not going to be very easy to find stuff out about her if she doesn't know her name.'

'And..' Sam paused. 'Why the hell is there blood on her shirt?'

'I'd say, "Ask her", but I don't think that would help,' Dean added.

About five minutes later, the car stopped. Both men got out, and I followed. They took rucksacks, and I brought nothing of any value. I followed behind them as they approached the reception.

'Uh, two rooms, please, one for us, one for her,' Dean told the receptionist.

She peered around at me, then raised an eyebrow at Dean.

'She's our sister,' Dean muttered. When the lady looked down at her list of rooms, Dean rolled his eyes.

'Names?'

He told her three names that I didn't think of any importance, and she handed him two keys. He handed one to me. I looked at the number on the tag. '_4624'_ was the number.

I followed the men down the hallway. They walked down the hall like they'd been there before. I shuffled along behind them. I found my room, 4624, which happened to be across from theirs, and unlocked it. I liked it, since I couldn't remember seeing anything nicer. I hung the key on a little rack they had beside the door, and shut the door just as they shut theirs. On the way down the hall, Sam said to knock if I needed anything. I thanked him.

The first thing I did was take off my stained shirt, which was top priority at the moment. I threw it in the sink to wash it straight after I took it off. I had another shirt underneath, a little black tank top. I put my denim shirt on above it. I walked to the mirror in the corner of the room, and lifted the tank top up a bit, to where the blood would've been.

Nothing. Not a scar, scratch, or even a bruise.

I took my denim shirt off.

'C'mon, there has to be something that caused it,' I murmured to myself, hoping I wasn't on the verge of insanity.

I then noticed something.

It looked like a burn mark. But it couldn't have been.

It was hand-shaped. It was on my left shoulder.

It stung when I touched it.

I didn't want to know what it was. Did I want to know? So far, wanting and needing to know information that might not be valuable hadn't benefited me in the slightest. It hadn't benefited the people that came across me, either. Sam and Dean would be in their motel room, without an amnesiac to worry about, if I hadn't gotten up and ran across the road. I could've just waited there, waited for somebody to find me.

But would I've been saved if I'd waited?

So, continuing, I hurried to the bathroom and concentrated on nothing but washing my shirt.

I was scrubbing at it for what seemed like an eternity, trying to get the blood off, when I heard the door open.

'Hey, I knocked, but I wasn't sure if you'd heard,' Sam began. He shut the door. 'I got one of Dean's-'

He stopped talking.

And when I looked at him, he'd stopped moving.

I then noticed that I'd forgotten to put my denim shirt back on.

He hurried back to the room. A few seconds later, I heard two sets of feet hurrying across the hall. Dean came first. Dean saw the burn mark.

Dean looked scared. He looked afraid. He might've been on the verge of terrified, but I wasn't good at reading people.

'Dean..' Sam gulped.

'I don't know what it is,' I said helplessly, grabbing my denim shirt from the bed and throwing it on.

Dean looked at my shirt in the sink. 'You don't have any cuts, do you?'

'Except from your one, no,' I answered.

Dean ripped out his phone. He dialed a number. He began talking.

'Cas, get the _hell _over here. You've done something. Something bad. You know who this girl is and you have to tell her who she is. You're the only one who knows.'

He listened for a second. He put the phone back in his phone.

'He's coming,' Dean told Sam. 'He better expl-'

Suddenly, it felt like somebody had opened the window on the coldest of winter mornings.

And suddenly, there was a man with a trench coat and suit standing at the other side of her room. He didn't look very intimidating, but I didn't have any good examples at that point of an intimidating person. He looked like he'd been at some fancy event, like a wedding. He was calm. He was quiet.

'Cas, can you explain what the hell is-' Dean half-shouted, but was stopped.

'Hello, Quinn,' the man said.


	2. Angels of The Lord

**I don't own these characters.**

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><p>Quinn.<p>

It sounded familiar.

My head began to pound lightly, but I was okay. I stood behind Sam, seeing as he was tallest. I crossed my arms over my torso and glanced at the figure in the trench coat at the other side of the room. I was scared of him. He'd suddenly appeared in the room.

Dean stepped forward and pointed at me without looking back. 'Cas, how the Hell do you know her?'

Before the stranger spoke, Sam cut in. 'And what's her name?'

The man sighed. 'Quinn James. Thats her name. I knew her and her parents.'

Sam and Dean looked at me, like I was supposed to know something.

'Don't ask me, I still don't know anything,' I sighed. 'Uh..Who is he?

'Castiel. Cas. Angel of the Lord,' Dean said with a hint of sarcasm. I remembered the name. Castiel. The first thing I had in my head when I woke up.

'That's all? A name?' Dean snapped, throwing his arm up halfway and then putting his hand in his pocket, looking at Castiel.

Castiel sighed, slightly widened his eyes and gestured to the door with them. Sam looked at me, maybe asking for my consent to leave, and I just nodded. The three proceeded from the room.

I hurried to the bathroom, again. I took my soaking shirt and hung it over the pole for the shower curtain. I took off my denim shirt. I put on the shirt Sam had left me. It was a brown-beige button-up. I pulled it on. It smelled nice. Not as in wildflower nice, but homely nice. As in you coming home from some time away and hugging somebody you're close to.

That kind of made sense in my situation, as I was lost, and Sam and Dean brought me here. They could just do that for everyone they found. Maybe they were like that towards everyone. I didn't know. But, I was probably the only person they'd found who had some sort of amnesia.

I then had a thought. A few. But one was very prominent.

I ran to the coffee table. I snatched a small notebook and pen of the table, sitting down on the end of the bed.

I realized that I didn't know what hand I wrote with. So I took turns in each hand. I began writing with my left.

_My name is Quinn-_

What was my surname? Johnson...Jameson..James..

That's it. Quinn James.

_My name is Quinn James. I am-_

I got up and looked in the standing mirror. I tried to figure out how old I was. I was tall, around five foot five, five foot six, as an estimate. I had golden brown hair, in a short bob, pixie cut kind of thing. I wasn't wearing any make-up. My face was clean and fresh.

I went back to the page.

_My name is Quinn James. I am seventeen, I think. I don't know where I'm from. I don't know how I get here. I don't know where I am. I only know three people. Sam, Dean, Castiel. And the lady from the reception. But, she doesn't count. I don't know why I woke up in a forest. I don't know how I got there._

I wasn't bothered to think anymore. I didn't want to know what was hidden in my head. I just wanted to sleep.

And so I did.

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><p>Somebody was knocking on my door.<p>

Dean's shirt still smelled as good as it had before I slept.

I looked in the mirror as I stood up to make sure I looked awake. And I did. So I opened the door.

The man in the trench coat looked at me.

'Can I come in?' He asked meekly and quietly, looking at me.

I nodded, realizing I have hardly spoke at all while around him. I hurried over to my bed, climbing on and sitting against the headboard, pulling my knees to my chest. Castiel sat in a small armchair facing the bed. I didn't look at him.

'I'm sorry,' he told me. I suddenly whipped my head up.

'Why are you sorry?' I questioned. 'I don't know if you did anything, and if you did, I don't know what you've done. So, you can't be sorry.'

'I know what I did. I need to help you,' Castiel insisted. 'I know what you don't, which you should know, and it's my fault. Those memories were yours and I intruded, stole them.'

'Can't you just..let me be? I don't need memories. I can start again. Isn't that what you took them for in the first place?' I asked him, looking down again and sighing.

He did the same. I looked at him, wondering if he sighed as if to say 'Do I have to do this?' or if he was genuinely trying to help me, but couldn't find the right words.

The first option seemed to be the right one. But the look in his eyes told a different story.

'I took them,' Castiel began, pulling his trench coat closer to the other side. 'Because I was afraid that you'd never recover if you still had them.'

'Well, we can just see, can't we?' I half-smiled. I looked down, twiddling my thumbs in front of my chest, and noticed a silence. I looked at Castiel, and noticed he had gotten up and taken the piece of paper I'd been writing on. He was writing on it too.

He then came over. He handed me the piece of paper. I looked at it. There were a few more lines.

_Quinn James is eighteen years old, _one of them read.

The other lines had an address. I stared up at him, thoroughly confused. What was I supposed to do?

'You should go there. If you want to remember everything, start there. I'll help you as much as I can.'

'And you can't just give all my memories back to me now?' I said. 'Spare me the effort?'

'I...I can't.'

I looked at him.

He looked at me.

I didn't speak.

'I made a wall, of sorts. Certain people can. I can't break that wall. You have to. Only you can.'

I looked down at the address. I studied it. I looked up at Castiel again, his dark brown hair tousled, his trench coat dirty.

'Okay.'

I had a shower. I got dressed. I got back into Dean's shirt. Dean and Sam got me some food. Sandwiches. Weren't the nicest, but they were okay. It was 3 a.m. I wasn't talking much. I still didn't know anyone. Not properly.

I went back to my room. Both of them told me that they were just across from me, and that they would help me. I just nodded and went inside.

I slept again. I slept for a while. I think.

And what I dreamed of was strange..

I was watching two people from a third person perspective. One was a child, no older than eleven. The other was maybe sixteen, seventeen. They were sitting on a bed, the little kid with her legs crossed and the older one kneeling. The younger one had long, wavy, brown hair down to her shoulder blades. The older one had the same hairstyle as me. Was that...me? They were both in pyjamas. It was quiet. The older one was holding ribbons of some sort.

The older girl took an orange ribbon, tying it with a bow on the younger one's left wrist. She then did the same on the right. The little kid looked up at her, in a sort of awe.

'What's this for?' the little girl asked, her voice high and sweet.

'I don't know. But...It's just for us. Nobody else will do it,' the older one smiled, looking at the ribbons and handing them to the younger girl. 'Take out two orange ones. Do the same as I did to you.'

And so she did. She made a bow on each wrist, and looked up at the other girl, proud. 'Why orange?'

'I've made some stuff up,' the older girl said, reaching over and getting a piece of paper. She read what was on it.

'Pink is determination. Purple is strength. Red is nostalgia. Blue is warmth. Yellow is love. Gray is anger. Black is sadness. Orange is fear.'

The younger girl nodded. 'Why do we need to fear?'

The older girl chuckled. 'Well, it's like we're supposed to, isn't it? We're like little guinea-pigs, testing different emotions. If we stick with the same one, we'll overcome it. Both of us will.'

'Really?' the younger girl asked, as if she'd never thought it possible.

'Of course. If we're lucky, maybe we'll overcome it together, Quinnie.'

Quinnie. Quinn.

Quinn James.

I woke up. And it was weird. It was like somebody had re-arranged a puzzle and put the pieces in the right places. Because I remembered something. It was slightly fuzzy, but it was there.

My dream was my memory.

I didn't know what to think. I had a slight headache. All the windows were open and I was cold. The clock on the wall above the coffee table said it was eight in the morning. I looked around the room. There was something on the armchair Castiel sat in. A bag. It was torn, and dirty, but it looked full. I got off the bed. I unzipped the bag. I took it over to the bed and emptied it out.

A coat. A phone. A wallet, with a hundred dollars in it. A 'The Beatles' notebook.

Then, it got strange.

A gun. Two large knives. A pocketknife. Chocolate bars, other food and drinks in small cans and boxes.

And then, ribbons. A lot of them, all different colours.

I went back to my one and only memory. I proceeded to grab two orange ribbons. I tied them on both wrists. That's what I would do, right?

I looked at the gun. I didn't dare touch it. I looked at the knives. I took the pocketknife and stuffed it in my back pocket. I looked at the food. Chocolate bars and cans of Coke and Fanta, the occasional energy drink. There were some energy bars in there too. I took an energy bar and gobbled it down, realizing I was starving. I looked in the wallet again. There was a lot more than one hundred dollars. I wondered where I got the money. Did I steal it?

I looked in the bag again. There was a note.

The same address as Castiel wrote down.

I took the phone. I stuffed it in the coat pocket. I pulled the coat on and zipped it up. I put the notebook, the gun, the knives, the food and the drinks back in the bag. I stuffed my hands in the coat pocket, looking around the room, when I felt something in the pocket. I took a rectangular thing out.

It was a credit card. I didn't know the PIN. There were a few numbers on the page with the address, but I wasn't sure. I tossed it back in the bag.

I zipped the bag back up.

What was I supposed to do?

I didn't know what to do.

So, I took the address and the room keys with my bag on my back, and walked to the door.

I didn't know what I was doing.


	3. Splitting Open

**_I don't own any of the characters except for Quinn James_**

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><p>I realized it was only 8 a.m. I didn't honestly care. I hurried to the reception. I gave the woman back my keys.<p>

She raised an eyebrow.

I didn't realize I was good at lying until now.

'I'm going to stay with my friends,' I said with a clear and strong tone, thinking I'd believe myself if I was on the other end. 'They're my brothers, they don't really care. They know where I'm going. Just ask them.'

The woman nodded, hopefully believing my lies. 'Well, be safe, out there,' she smiled, taking the keys and shoving them under the desk. 'Have a great day.'

'You too,' I half-smiled. Then, I remembered something. 'Oh, hey, um, do you know how I could get a taxi from here?'

'Oh, I can just call one for you now, if you'd like,' she told me, ready to pick up the phone.

'Oh, thank you,' I said, crossing my arms. She picked up the phone, dialed a number and spoke for a bit.

'Okay,' she said, still being as hospitable as she thought possible towards me. 'The taxi will be here in a few minutes. You can wait in here, if you want, or outside.'

I think she'd like the second option.

'Uh, I'll wait outside,' I said quietly, nodding to her and hurrying out the door.

_Come on, _I thought, _I need to get out of here. Will they even know where to go for the address?_

A minute or so later, a taxi stopped in front of me. I got in the back.

I showed the man the piece of paper with the address. 'Do you know where it is?'

He looked at the page. 'I think so.' He looked at me. 'It'll be about a hundred bucks to get there, you know.'

I whipped out my wallet and handed him a two fifty dollar notes. He looked at me, and I just smiled.

He started the car and drove off.

'Thank you,' I smiled as I got out of the car. I shut the door and he drove off. It had taken around two hours to get here. I stared at where we'd stopped.

It was a house. A cute little two story thing, by the looks of it. There was a small garden at the front. I walked to the front door. There was nobody else on the street, as far as I knew. All the houses had 'For Sale' signs stuck into the lawns.

My head hurt.

There were flashes, faint memories.

A number on a door. The number was '83'.

A doormat.

A key.

I was back to reality a few seconds later. The pounding in my head didn't go away. I had to stick with it. I remembered my..visions, I'll call them. A door. A doormat. A key.

I looked at the number on the top of the door.

The number was 83.

I looked down at the doormat I was standing on.

I lifted it up and saw a key.

Well, wasn't that a coincidence?

I picked up the key and put it in the door, turning it. The door creaked as it opened. I stepped in. My headache got worse. I walked into the first room. There was a TV, two shabby-looking couches, a stack of Kerrang! Magazines. My head was pounding. I put one hand against my head and gripped it. I stood in the middle of the room, my shoes hitting the hard wood flooring. My headache got worse and worse. It felt like it was going to explode.

I didn't know what to do.

I gripped my head with my hands and bent over, dropping to my knees on the floor.

_Make it stop, _I begged myself. _Please, make it stop, why is this happening, I'm going to burst, it hurts to bad-_

And then I saw nothing. Nothing at all.

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><p><strong><em>3rd Person POV<em>**

Quinn was fourteen. She came home from school. As she ran down her road to get home, her bag bouncing off her back, she remembered who was supposed to be home. They said they were going to stay in town for a while, if they could, since they hadn't seen me for a long time. She didn't even care that she'd been screamed at in Home Economics for writing down what the teacher said, or being late to German and almost getting another detention.

She ran around the corner and opened the door with her key. As she shut the down, Quinn dropped her bag in the hall and heard voices. She headed into the kitchen, and saw them there.

Dean and Sam, chatting to her sister, Ellie.

Quinn hurried to them and hugged Sam, then Dean. She then went to the fridge and got a soda.

She listened in to the others conversations for a while, until Sam began to talk to Quinn.

'How was school?' He asked, like anyone else would. Most people ask it so the child doesn't get left out, but that's not how it works with the Winchesters. They care.

'Meh. I got screamed at in Home Ec, then almost got detention in German, and then I lost my lunch money,' Quinn sighed, sipping her soda.

Ellie raised her eyebrow. 'Lost it?'

Quinn looked at her. 'Uh..Yeah?'

Ellie sighed. 'You sure about that?'

Quinn then sighed, leaning against the counter. 'Yeah, yeah, they took it, it doesn't matter.'

Ellie walked over to Quinn and tried to pull back a piece of her hair. 'I'm fine, I'm fi-' Quinn spluttered, trying to move backwards.

Ellie pulled back her wavy hair and saw a bruise around her temple. It was purple-brown and a decent size. Ellie looked at her.

'Seriously?' She sighed. 'They did that for money?'

'I'm fine,' Quinn insisted. 'I can care take of myself.'

Quinn was looking at the floor. She didn't want to look up at Sam and Dean to see what would've been anger or disappointment in their eyes. She took her hair and let it hang around her face again, hurrying out of the room. She muttered a quick 'bye' as she left.

As she continued upstairs, her bag now in hand, she heard them talking. She guessed Ellie was discussing Quinn's many 'problems' in school; how she would be beaten up for lunch money, how she was always late to class, how most days Ellie would find exams on her bed with neat little F's or D's in the corners. Quinn didn't see that Ellie was protecting her, she saw it as Ellie controlling her, treating her like a child, just because she still went to school and Ellie didn't go to college. But, Ellie did really care. She was her sister, for God's sake.

As Quinn got up to her room, with it's light green walls and messy pile of clothes in the corner, she grabbed her phone from her bag's front pocket, and turned it on. She grabbed her homework books, and started blasting her Paramore playlist. 'Let The Flames Begin', 'Emergency', 'Monster', and 'Hello Cold World' were the first to play. She had the volume up as loud as possible, and was singing along as she completed most of her homework. Her playlists rolled from one to another, and she was eventually finished her homework. There was a knock on the door.

* * *

><p>It all went fuzzy. It was dark again. My head was splitting open, it seemed. I, then, slipped back into unconsciousness, if I'd ever slipped out of it.<p>

* * *

><p>Quinn was five years old. Ellie was carrying a dozen boxes in her young, ten year-old arms, walking across the room. Quinn just stood there, on the tiled floor.<p>

'I'm not moving,' Quinn protested. 'I love it here. Don't make me move, Ellie, please..'

'C'mon, Quinn,' Ellie sighed. 'Just suck it up and get in the car.'

'No!' Quinn screamed. 'I'm not moving again!'

Ellie continued across the apartment, going down the spiral stairs. She went to the car and dropped the boxes in. Quinn opened the window on the second floor, where she was standing, and shouted 'I'm not going!' to her sister.

Ellie came running up, and grabbed Quinn under the legs and at the shoulder blades. Ellie picked Quinn up, much to Quinn's protests. Ellie carried her downstairs to the car, Quinn whimpering and laughing at the same time. As Ellie ran across the road to the car, Quinn upside-down, they both began laughing. Ellie turned Quinn right-side-up again and stood her up. Giving up, Quinn got into the back of the car and watched Ellie pile boxes around her and in the trunk. After about twenty minutes, out came their Mom, in a tracksuit and hoodie, car keys in hand. Her hair was the same as Quinn's, long and wavy. She tucked it behind her ear as she pulled open the car door, a Toyota Cressida, and a very grubby one at that. Ellie got in the front passenger's seat, as their Mother turned the keys and the engine roared. They all looked back at their house, for what was the last time, before their Mother drove the car down the road. Quinn had never asked why they moved. She came home from school, only a week before, and saw the boxes. She didn't want to move, but there was no choice. She was told there wasn't a reason, that Mom just wanted a 'change', but Quinn wondered why a change involved moving halfway across the country. She asked her Mother why Ellie could know, why she couldn't, but all she got was a shrug and a promise that 'She'd know when she's older'.

They moved into a house, much like their old one, in an almost empty neighborhood. Quinn shared a room with Ellie, and enjoyed it very much, as she always enjoyed anything to do with Ellie. She was lonely, all the same. She was always in school, then at home in her room with Ellie. Then, one day, she was home with Ellie and two men showed up at their door. Their Mother looked surprised. She welcomed both men in with a smile.


	4. We Won't Go

**_I don't own any of the characters except for Quinn James_**

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><p>The two men strode into Quinn and Ellie's full sight, looking very tall. Their Mother led them into the small kitchen, where she had been cooking spaghetti. Ellie and Quinn, ever so curious, tip-toed after them. They both stood against the door, as they took in the men's appearances. They were both in suits and ties, with polished shoes. One had long-ish hair and the other had a comb-over, spiky hairstyle. They looked at us as she hurried in, Quinn standing behind Ellie.<p>

Their Mother rooted in the fridge and pulled out two beers. She gave one to each man. She then turned to the girls. 'This is Sam Winchester,' she gestured to the older one, 'And this is Dean Winchester.'

'Hi..' Ellie mumbled. She looked at Quinn.

'Uh, hi,' she said, a bit louder than Ellie, but still quietly. Both Sam and Dean waved slightly.

'Ellie and...Quinn, right?' Dean asked the girls and their Mother. They all nodded.

The Mother walked over to Quinn and whispered in her ear. 'Quinnie, can you go upstairs for a minute? We just need to talk about something.'

'But..What about Ellie?' Quinn protested, pointing at her older sister.

'She's old enough to stay,' her Mother sighed.

Defeated, Quinn hurried upstairs. She heard them begin talking. She knew what it was about, almost. She always wondered why her Mother and Ellie would go away while she's in school, come back a few minutes before she's home, or be away while she's asleep. They worked..but Quinn didn't know as what. These two men..Dean and Sam, they were in on it, Quinn knew it. But, as always, she stood by.

* * *

><p>They were gone again. Sam, Dean, Ellie and Quinn's Mother, Emma. Quinn was back from school. She was fifteen. To be honest, she wasn't surprised that they'd go and disappear again for the third time in a week, with nothing but a frozen pizza in the fridge and a note that they'd be home soon. Quinn was scared of being alone. So, she cooked the pizza, and brought it to the sitting room. She ate as she watched random TV channels. Her homework books were piled at her feet, an assignment or two on her lap. She finished each piece of homework within an hour. The TV had been blaring for about two or three hours when the front door, just beside the room Quinn was in, was thrown open. She was so shocked she fell off the couch.<p>

'What the hell?!' she gasped, collecting herself and standing up. Quinn raced out into the hallway to find a certain group of people coming through the door.

'Jesus,' she groaned. 'You could've called me.'

'I did,' Sam told her, looking at his phone. 'Seven times, to be exact.'

Quinn looked back into the room, and saw her phone on the table. 'Whoops.'

'Figured a scare would do you some good,' Dean said. 'since you never leave the house.'

'Oh, shut up,' Quinn sighed, chuckling. 'Not my fault I can't go on these great, glorious adventures of yours.' Dean and Sam didn't respond.

Ellie strode in, looking much the same, except for some bruises and a scar above her left eyebrow.

'Food?' Emma asked. Everyone nodded and Dean clapped his hands together, rubbing them, as if to say 'Why even ask?' Emma proceeded into the kitchen and they all heard the fridge opening. Everyone else headed into the sitting room, and Quinn followed, grabbing all of her books. Dean picked one up.

'What is this crap?' he asked, flailing a copy in Quinn's face.

'Geometry,' Quinn groaned. 'Triangles.'

Dean chuckled. 'That sucks.'

'Thanks,' Quinn sighed, picking up the pile of books that reached up to her chin. Ellie came over and took half. They both proceeded upstairs. They dropped them onto Quinn's bed, and Quinn immediately turned to Ellie.

'How'd those happen?' Quinn asked, pointing to the bruises and marks on her sister's face.

'Doesn't matter,' Ellie sighed, walking to the mirror in the corner and looking at the marks. 'They aren't that bad.'

'Where'd you guys go?' Quinn said, continuing to question Ellie. She dropped down on the bed.

'I told you, it doesn't matter,' Ellie repeated, turning around to look at Quinn. 'How's your homework going?'

'Don't brush it off like it doesn't matter,' Quinn told her. 'This was the longest you guys have ever been gone. Two and a half weeks. D'you know how many signatures I had to forge?'

'You counted?' Ellie asked, feeling bad for Quinn, because she never really had to be alone at home.

'...Yeah,' Quinn muttered. 'I didn't know what to do. I called. A lot. Not one of you answered. I gave up eventually. Sorry..'

'Don't be sorry, Quinnie,' Ellie told her. 'We won't go for that long again. I promise.'

Quinn gulped. 'Okay.' She had her legs crossed. 'About homework...I'm not failing..'

'That's good,' Ellie assured her. Quinn felt like she had a weight on her shoulders, because she was the only one in her family still going to school, and felt like she was failing miserably. Ellie didn't like it when she thought like that. Quinn wasn't the strongest, but she was brave and caring, and Ellie knew that was all that mattered.

Sam poked his head around the door. 'Food,' he smiled.

'Already?' Ellie cocked her eyebrow.

Sam gestured for us to follow him down. Quinn hopped off the bed and followed Ellie downstairs. That night, they all were together again, and they were all happy. Later, Quinn with Coke and the others with beer, they talked about random things; school, their pasts. But, inside, Quinn was scared for when they'd all leave again.

* * *

><p>They were gone again. Michigan, Emma said. Quinn was alone. Ellie would be back soon. The others had to stay for a while longer. Quinn had cried after they'd left. They'd all been home for a good two months. Then, they disappeared. Ellie hadn't wanted to leave, as Quinn had been beaten up in school for the second time in a few weeks, but Emma insisted. Quinn was alone, on the third night, when her phone blasted 'Long Black Road', her ringtone. Quinn grabbed it.<p>

'Hello?' she muttered into the phone.

'Quinn,' a deep voice panted. Sam. 'Where are you?'

'At home..Why?' she asked, immediately getting up and checking the windows were closed and the door locked, as always.

'Go up to your room and grab clothes. Warm clothes. Get some food, while you're at it, too,' he added. And so Quinn did. She grabbed most of her clothes and some energy bars and drinks from the kitchen. She took a bottle of beer for some reason.

'Okay, got it,' Quinn said. 'Anything else?'

'..Go up to Ellie's dresser. Fourth drawer.'

Quinn hurried up to their room and pulled out the fourth drawer.

'What _is _this?' Quinn gasped.

'Take a gun..' Sam muttered. 'And a knife. A pocketknife, too.'

She took each. Her mind was spinning. She didn't even want to know.

'Sam?' Quinn said quietly. 'Where's Dean? Where's Ellie and Mom?'

'Quinn-' Sam was cut off.

She could hear somebody, or something, banging against the door as if their life depended on it.

She dropped to the ground and crawled, so nobody could see her through the windows.

Quinn headed towards the back door.

'Somebody's trying to get in!' She whispered.


	5. Their Poor Souls

**I don't own any of the Supernatural characters**

* * *

><p>'Quinn? Quinn!' Sam shouted into the phone.<p>

'Sam...There's somebody here..' Quinn whispered, too frightened to properly speak. She tip-toed to the back door, her bag slung over her shoulder. She quietly turned the back door handle and stepped outside into the cold, misty night air. She had the phone up to her ear still.

'Dean. Dean!' Quinn heard Sam shout. 'We gotta go.'

'Hold on, Quinn,' Sam whispered. Quinn could hear mumbling on her end. She closed the door as quietly as she could, looking around for an escape route. She looked at the fence around the back of their house. Quinn knew time was running out. She ran to the fence, which was tall and green and cold, like something you'd see at a park. Quinn threw her bag over, cringing when something cracked, and then pulled herself over the fence, falling onto the ground and slightly cutting her hands and arms. Quinn quickly picks herself up. Her phone is cracked on the pavement.

'Quinn?' Sam shouted into the phone, just loud enough so that Quinn can hear him from where she's standing. She brushes away the gravel and puts it up to her ear again. Quinn can hear an engine.

'Wait, I'm gonna put you on speaker,' Sam says quickly, silent for a second.

'Quinn?' Dean grumbles. 'Where are you right now?

Quinn panted, picking up her bag and jogging quickly down the path. 'On the path behind my house. I don't know how long I have. They're going to get in any second...'

'Okay...Well, we just got onto the highway, we're less than an hour away. D'you know where 'The Brook' is?'

'Course, I do,' Quinn sighed, remembering the times Dean would come to their house, drunk and confused, at three in the morning. He'd walk home, leaving the Impala there, foolishly. Quinn would sit with him all night. Then, Sam would get the car in the morning. Dean never remembered what they talked about.

'Okay. Can you meet us there?' Dean said.

'Sure. Okay...I'm gonna..I'm gonna start running now, because I'm not in the mood to die,' Quinn took in short breaths, trying to make a joke out of a not-so-funny situation.

'That's my girl. Okay..Once you get there, go inside, and we'll find you,' Sam added.

'Okay..' Quinn panted, running as fast as her legs and breath would allow. 'Can you get here soon?'

'Course. Be safe. See you,' Dean said quietly, and the call ended.

Quinn ran the whole mile to the bar. She hurried inside, not able to see the Impala anywhere outside. Quinn just stood next to the door, waiting for thirty minutes. Then, the two guys walked in, Dean in his leather jacket, both in plaid. Dean looked around the bar to see if there was anyone suspicious, and Sam grabbed Quinns wrist and brought her outside. Sam opened the Impala door and Quinn jumped inside, Dean hurrying out after them. They got in and Dean started the car again.

'We're taking you to our motel, okay?' Sam said. Dean pulled onto the road and took off.

'Okay. When can I go back home?' Quinn asked, leaning against the window.

'We'll go back tomorrow morning. Ellie and Emma are finishing up, they'll be back by tomorrow,' Dean assured her. '

'Okay,' Quinn said. She watched them drive past the blurring streetlights. She didn't sleep, but she lay against the door, closing her eyes. About half an hour later, she opened her eyes to find Sam looking at her.

She chuckled. 'Perv,' she coughed, looking down. After a few seconds, she looked up at him, and he was smiling.

'Wait, what'd you say?' Dean piped in, looking in the rearview mirror at Quinn.

'She called me a perv,' Sam laughed, his hair whipping around his head.

Dean laughed. 'Well, Sammy..'

We all chuckled. Then, I thought of something. 'Ya know what, Sam? You've got more hair than Ellie.'

'Sam turned around in his seat. 'Is that so?'

'Yup,' Quinn giggled, turning back to face the window. It was silent for a while, and eventually they arrived at the motel. They all hopped out of the car. Dean got another room for Quinn and she hurried inside. She tossed her bag on the bed, the door still open. She looked across the hall, at Sam and Dean's room, the door swinging close.

'Guys!' she shouted a bit too loudly. Sam turned around and jogged to her.

Quinn unzipped her bag and took out all the clothes on the top. She revealed her weapon stash.

'What do I do with them?' Quinn asked. She tried to give them to Sam but he refused.

'You need them. You have to keep them. Just in case,' Sam smiled, heading back out. 'Give us a shout if you need anything.'

'Sure thing,' Quinn smiled, and Sam shut the door behind him. It was late. It was midnight. Quinn rooted through her clothes and grabbed a pair of pajamas; a purple panda pants and a blue v-neck, short-sleeved shirt. They didn't match, but, to be honest, Quinn's 'not-going-out-in-public' clothes never did. She changed, and found her phone. But, no headphones.

'Goddamnit,' Quinn mumbled.

She didn't care at this point. She scrolled through her music, and found a section on one of her favorite bands, The Material. She played their first song as loud as her phone would let her. She jumped onto the bed and lay there, mildly almost-shouting along with the singer. After a while, and by a while, it was more like two hours, the songs had come to an end and Quinn got up, turned off the light, and went to bed. She actually slept.

* * *

><p>Quinn was sitting on the edge of one of the beds in Sam and Dean's room, waiting for them to be ready to head back to Quinn's house. Her phone was ringing. 'Long Black Road' played. Dean looked at her in the mirror, cocking his eyebrow.<p>

'What?' Quinn chuckled. 'It's a good song.'

She looked around in her bag and grabbed her phone. She looked at the number. 'It's Mom,' she said, confused. Dean walked over to stand in front of her.

'Mom?' Quinn said.

'Your mother would say hello, but I'm afraid she's in a bit of a tough spot at the minute,' a female voice said so maniacally you could practically see her smile. She was close to the phone, and it felt like this person was right beside Quinn.

Quinn looked at Sam with confusion in her eyes. She slowly put it on speaker.

'Why do you have my Mom's phone?' Quinn said slowly and quietly. Dean looked at Quinn. Everyone was befuddled.

'Well, well, Quinn, that isn't a nice way to speak to somebody you've just met. Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Tabitha. Well...My meat-suit's called Tabitha, but what's the difference, right? I know all of her little thoughts and feelings,' Tabitha said quite evilly into the phone.

'What are you doing?' Quinn heard Ellie shouting in the background.

'Excuse me,' Tabitha said. You could hear a chair creaking. Then, the sound of somebody being hit. Punched, more than likely.

Tabitha sighed. 'Okay, then, Quinnie. Sorry about that. Now, let the big boys talk, will we? Your family and I have so business to deal with.'

Quinn snapped at Tabitha. '_Don't_..call me that.' Dean tried to get the phone from Quinn, but she still spoke into it. 'And don't try to lay a finger on _any _of them..Don't you _even dare_.'

Tabitha chuckled. 'Now, now, Quinn..Don't be moody.'

Quinn sat there, staring blankly down at the floor, and handed the phone to Dean. Him and Sam leaned over it.

'What are you doing, Tabitha?' Dean growled. 'Leave them alone.'

'Fellas, nothing's going to happen to these poor souls. Well, nothing to their souls..much. Quite a lot will happen to their meat-suits, once I'm done, all the same,' Tabitha sighed. 'Now, this doesn't _have _to happen. You both can come here, finish what you started, and no harm done to these poor girls..'

There was silence.'

'Or! You can disobey. That's your thing, isn't it?'

'You get the choice, fellas. Decide. See you soon, Quinnie.'

The call ended.

'Go, Sam! Get the car!' Dean shouted, tossing the keys to Sam, who caught them on the way out the door. Dean grabbed Quinn's arm and dragged her to the hallway.

'You have to come with us. But, stay in the car when we get there. Don't even try and come with us,' Dean snapped.

'Dean..What's happening?' Quinn gasped, having no idea what the conversation was about, what 'meat-suits' and 'souls' had to do with anything. All she knew was that her family was in trouble. And she couldn't do anything.

Dean looked at her with sincerity in his eyes and shook his head. 'Don't ask. Don't think about it. For your own good. Just...Let's go, Quinnie.'

She half-smiled at Dean, who patted Quinn on the shoulder and jogged out to the car, quickly smiling at the receptionist. Quinn followed him, her bag on her back, trying not to think about whatever was happening.


	6. Park

**I don't own any of the Supernatural characters**

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><p>'Stay in the car,' Dean told her, as she went to get out. His face turned soft. 'Please, Quinn.'<p>

So, Quinn stayed. She didn't know what was going on. Did she want to know? Quinn watched as Sam and Dean held guns by their sides and Sam kicked in the door. They hurried in and she saw no more of them. Quinn began to think of her sister. Her Mother. Who the hell Tabitha was. And what were Sam and Dean to her? What did her family do to Tabitha?

Why was Quinn stuck in all this?

After five minutes, Quinn heard a scream. It made her shiver. And it sounded familiar. She heard another.

Quinn jumped out of the car in a hurry and sprinted into the house, not clear of what she's doing. She remembered the smell of her home, and cherished it for the seconds that she spent in the hall, before she paused in the doorway of the kitchen.

Dean was bent over on the ground. Sam was leaning against the counter, his hand pressed against his temple, with a look of terror upon his face. Dean was murmuring, 'Come on..You can't...Goddamn it, don't die on me, please!' to a body underneath him. He was shaking the person.

Quinn tried to scream, but couldn't. She couldn't get the air out. She took a step closer.

She looked down into the faces of her dead Mother and sister.

She put her hands behind her head and stared at Dean. There were ropes thrown around the floor. He looked up at Quinn. There were tears in his eyes, but he wasn't crying. He never cried.

'I'm..I'm so sorry...' He whispered. 'Quinn..'

Quinn just stared at Dean, then at Sam, then at her Mother and sister. They were both bloody. Quinn moved slowly to stand beside Ellie. She dropped to her knees and stared.

'Why..' Quinn murmured. 'Why this time? All the other times when they came back safe, and now..'

Quinn shook her sister's shoulder, bending over her. 'C'mon, Ellie..Wake up...Tell me it's just a joke, please..You need to take care of me..' Quinn's eyes were wide open. She wasn't able to believe any of it. The last time they were together was when Ellie left to go with everyone else, and Quinn was a mess. She'd just been beaten up. Quinn succumbed to sadness and despair, not talking, just imagining what would have been if Ellie hadn't gone. She realized she hadn't thought about her Mother. But, Quinn didn't care. Ellie was like her Mom. Ellie had been there when her Mother hadn't been. They knew things about each other that they'd be scared to admit to anyone else. Ellie had promised to come back. She always did. But, this was out of her control.

And Quinn never even got to say goodbye. She was told they'd be back soon. They were back.

They just weren't alive.

And so, Quinn decided she had to be alone for a while. Maybe longer. As long as she needed.

Quinn had tears in her eyes as she ran upstairs and grabbed her wallet. She could hear Dean from downstairs, yelling after her. She blocked out his voice. She didn't need it right now.

And, as quick as she'd arrived, she was gone, running down the path, not caring who saw. She began to cry on the way down the road, and she didn't wipe the tears away. This is what life had done to her.

She turned some corners and never stopped running. She knew where she was going.

Quinn was going to the park.

It was a special, nostalgic place for her. She had more memories of that one patch of grass than she did of school. She'd go to that park when she'd given up. But afterward, Quinn would always come back swinging.

Not this time.

She opened the squeaking gate, which was rusty, with a splash of green paint. The park had been redone a year before, giving it new jungle-gyms and benches. If you sat in a certain area, you could get an internet signal from the house behind. But, none of that mattered anymore.

Quinn sat down on one of the benches and stared into the distance, a tear or two running down her face at points. She didn't cry a lot, but when something happened that effected her more than she wanted it to, she would cry as much as she thought necessary. Quinn realized that the pocket knife had been in her back pocket. She pulled it out.

She dropped to the ground and pulled the knife across the concrete. She did this until she'd actually made a dent.

Quinn stood back up, and looked down on her creation. She'd written 'Ellie James, I'm sorry' in the concrete. She felt it was necessary. Quinn felt she was the one who needed to say sorry, this once, not Ellie. It was never Ellie's fault. But, Ellie felt like she had to take the blame for Quinn, every single time.

'I'm your sister. You think I'm going to just stand by and let you take all this shit?' Ellie had said. And those words were ringing in Quinn's ears with the thought. She sat there, for a good thirty minutes, before getting beyond frustrated with doing nothing. She got up and looked across the road at a hair salon. She thought of Ellie. She looked at her wallet.

Quinn walked inside and showed the girl a picture of Ellie. The woman said it could be done. She got to work.

* * *

><p>'Sam..What have we done?' Dean whispered, shaking his head slowly, as if to say 'Why did this happen?'<p>

Sam just shook his head. 'We have to find Quinn..'

Dean looked at him. 'She doesn't want to be found.'

'It's dangerous out there, Dean. And she doesn't know what to do. She just saw her family d-'

'_Don't _say it,' Dean snapped. He calmed down quickly, muttering sorry. 'I know we have to find her. Just..give her some time.'

Sam nodded meekly. 'What do we do..with..?'

'We bury them,' Dean sighed. 'But..Not now. We'll tidy them up..So Quinn can say goodbye. But, first, we should get some stuff..Her guitar, her laptop. Then, we'll find her. Okay?'

'Okay,' Sam said. He went upstairs to Quinn's room, bringing down a guitar, laptop and charger. He put them in the back of the Impala and they set off to find her.

* * *

><p>Quinn was sitting in the park, again. Except, she had far less hair. She cut it like Ellie had hers. She felt it appropriate. It had been a few hours. Quinn was still numb and didn't really know how to feel. Then, she saw a strangely recognizable car pull up outside the gate. She looked down at her writing in the concrete, studying it as she heard a pair of boots coming closer to her. She didn't look up until Sam had sat down beside her, and even then, it had only been a glance.<p>

'What are you trying to accomplish?' Quinn muttered.

'Just trying to get you back,' Sam said. '..You deserve to know what happened.'

'You mean, some bitch came into my home and killed me family?' Quinn growled, looking up at Sam properly for the first time.

'There's more,' Sam sighed. 'There's so much you've never been told about.'

Sam tried to explain. He tried to explain the demons, the vampires, that the monsters under your bed needed to be checked for. He explained that Ellie had been dragged into a world of monsters and that nobody wanted Quinn to have to do the things that Ellie had done. So, they kept it a secret.

They had been on a hunt. Emma had found some demons. She brought Ellie along. For the experience, she said. Ellie got into a tight spot, almost got killed. Sam, Dean and Emma had to kill a dozen demons to get to her. Tabitha was one of them. Sam guessed Tabitha had found a new meat-suit. He stopped talking after that.

'I..I never got to say goodbye...' Quinn sniffled. 'Was it my fault? If I'd just stayed at home when somebody was at the door..' Quinn began to cry.

'Hey, hey, hey,' Sam whispered. He pulled her into a hug. They stayed like that for a while.

'D'you remember when we used to come down here, at midnight?' Sam began. 'And you'd stand on the swings and we'd push you?'

'And E-Ellie would sit in the corner and get Wifi from the houses?' Quinn said. 'Yeah..I remember.'

'Think of that,' Sam told her. 'Remember that. Just the happy moments. Nothing else.'

He helped her up, and they walked back to the Impala. 'Hey, Quinnie,' Dean half-smiled, trying to be happy but failing. The James' were like family to them. They were family. And the one of them was all that was left. 'Quinn..Do you want to see them?'

'..No,' Quinn muttered. 'I don't want to remember the bad things.' She looked at Sam and smiled slightly. He looked at her.

Dean was still looking at her. 'Quinn..What the Hell happened to your hair?'

Sam looked at her hair, only noticing it now. Quinn shrugged with all the effort she could scrounge together. 'I don't know.' But they already did. They knew it was Ellie's hairstyle. She got her hair like that when she was thirteen. Ellie said that she didn't want to be treated like a child anymore. Sam and Dean guessed that was Quinn's reason, too. On the way back to the motel, Quinn couldn't stop thinking of Ellie and her Mother, remembering what they looked like as they lay on the floor of their own house. She closed her eyes and kept them shut, but all she saw was her sister in front of her face. Once the car stopped, Dean hopped out and handed Quinn her laptop and cable as she got out. He was holding the guitar. Of course, it was a struggle to get everything in the boot of the Impala, but Quinn didn't know what was in it.

'Can I borrow this?' Dean said. Quinn nodded. They hurried inside, and Dean and Sam were glad the receptionist was on her break. They were slightly bloody. Their shirts and pants had bloody marks on them.

Quinn walked into her room and closed the door quietly. She didn't lock it. She had her laptop under her arm. She put it on the desk, plugged it in, and turned it on. The minute it logged on, Quinn saw the desktop picture. It was her, Sam, Dean, and Ellie.

Quinn closed the lid down and pushed it to one side.

Why did she choose to be alone?


	7. A Page

**I don't own any of the Supernatural characters**

* * *

><p>'What can I do? I have to do something...' Quinn muttered. Sam and Dean had walked in to find her sitting at the desk, just staring blankly at the wall in front of her. She rose and hurried over to her dresser when the door opened, pretending to be okay. Both men decided not to speak of it, but they knew Quinn wasn't okay. They stood at the door when Quinn looked up at them.<p>

'Uh, Quinn,' Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. 'We're going to go to..'

'Okay,' Quinn said quietly, trying her best to hold her head high, as if she was in control of her feelings and the situation. 'I'll..I'll come.'

'Are you sure? Sam said. 'You don't have to.'

'I'm sure. It'll..' Quinn managed to smile. 'It'll be good for me.'

'Okay. We good to go?' Dean huffed, Sam going out the door. Quinn wondered what the receptionist thought of them, leaving every few hours.

Quinn hurried out the door, and was followed by Dean, who put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it slightly, to let her know Dean was there for her, both men were, when nobody else was. Words weren't needed to be said. And so, they all got in the Impala and drove to what used to be Quinn's home.

* * *

><p>There was a page.<p>

It was torn, and it was wrinkled, and not many people would be able to read the barely legible writing, but it was a page, all the same. There was a page, but no sister.

Ellie was nowhere to be found.

And Quinn wasn't trying to hide her joy.

'She..She's not here. She got away, guys. She got away! She's out there, and we aren't with her, but we can find her!' Quinn said, wide-eyed, surprised. She grabbed the letter off the floor. There was splatters of blood on the floor. '_Quinn_' was scrawled across the front of the folded paper. The last '_n_' was dragged across the rest of the page.

Sam sighed. 'Quinn, there's a chance Ellie's still out there..But it might not be the Ellie you remember.'

'Sam, I don't care. She's out there! We have to get to her-' Quinn argued, partly because she believed she had to find Ellie, partly because Quinn didn't know what Sam meant about Ellie being different.

'No, Quinn, you don't understand,' Sam began. 'Not the kind of different you think I mean. Different, as in..It might not be her anymore. It'll be like a different person.'

'I don't care. Whether she's a human or something else, I'll find her. You would do that for one another, too. I know it,' Quinn snapped. She walked to the kitchen door, looking down at her Mother. Sam and Dean were looking at each other, taking into account what Quinn said. She told back quickly, taking a deep breath. Quinn walked into the hall.

_Quinn,_

_I don't have much time. I don't know if you're going to get this letter, and I don't know how long I'm going to have, either. Tabitha's a demon. She's going to come back. She ran off before Sam and Dean got her, the bitch. She killed Mom, tried to kill me, already thinks I'm dead. I've got a book, a journal, in our room. The dresser beside my bed, third drawer down, near the back. Take it, read it. It's yours now. Don't let anyone else see it. It's kind of private. My phone's upstairs, take it too. If I ever get around to a phone box again, I'll call that number. I'm so sorry, Quinnie. I should've stayed home. We'd be together if I hadn't been stupid and gone along with everything Mom said. I'd have saved you if-_

_Just, be safe. Stay with the boys. They'll take care of you. They sure as hell took care of me._

_Ellie._

And so, Quinn went upstairs. She knelt down in front of the dresser. Into the third drawer, she reached, and felt cardboard. Quinn yanked it out, looking down at the journal. It had different doodles on the front, the spine was torn, and there were dogs ears, but it wouldn't have been Ellie's without those details. Opening the book to the first page, there was contents, which was strange, for the kind of journal it was. Quinn read down. Demons, Ghosts, Spirits, Vampires, Shapeshifters, Angels, Crossroad Demons, and then a list of different things. Devil's Trap, Sigils, Exorcisms, Latin Spells. Quinn wasn't in the mood for reading it, so she held it under her arm and made her way back downstairs. It seemed Sam and Dean had done their job. The kitchen was clean. Not a speck of anything on the ground, walls, anything. And it was only the three of them in the kitchen.

'Where are we going?' Quinn said quietly.

'We were planning on going about an hour from here,' Sam told her, and Quinn noticed a bruise on the left hand side of Sam's face, just then, but didn't mention it. 'We don't have to, if you don't want to.'

'No, no, it's fine. I'm up for it. I don't wanna slow you guys down,' Quinn said, trying to smile and pretend everything was alright, again. She was doing that a lot.

'Hey, c'mon, kid, you don't slow us down,' Dean smiled, looking straight in Quinn's eyes during a few seconds of silence. Straight after that, Dean looked at Sam and mouthed, 'Let's go.'

'Wait-' Quinn barely got out before she sprinted upstairs and stopped just short of her bedside table. She reached in and grabbed more than a handful of ribbons. She tied a gray one on one wrist and a black on the other. Because, according to Ellie's logic, black is anger, and gray is sadness.

That was their queue to exit.

* * *

><p><em><strong>'"Crossroads demons are entities that make formal agreements or bargains with humans, granting any wish in exchange for claiming their life and soul at a fixed point in the future. Deals made with humans are sealed with a kiss, and contracts are written invisibly on the skin of the person. They tend to have red eyes. When the person dies either before his or her time, or is killed by a hellhound at the end of the appointed period, his or her soul is sent to hell. Terms of the demonic contracts vary, but the person selling his or her soul is usually given ten years to live after the deal is made."<strong>_

_**Apparently. That's what Wikipedia says. The main jist of it is, that if you want something (fame, money, a relative to be alive, whatever), you'll go to a crossroads, and bury a little box, with a picture of your beautiful self, some graveyard dirt, and a bone from a black cat inside, smack-bang in the middle of the road. Apparently. Wikipedia again, since I've never done it and never asked. This is just in case anyone needs wise old Ellie's tips. Only thing I know is that they're decieving son's of bitches. You could be ready for them, wanting..hey, maybe you want fame, and are willing to sell your soul in ten years. They'll wiggle their way around until they get what they want. You might only have five years, one year, or none. But, the 'none' thing only works if you're bringing somebody back from the dead, or you're really, really, stupid. Talking to you, whoever's reading this.'**_

That was where the chapter on crossroad demons ended. Quinn had been reading in the back of the Impala. And Quinn had a plan, but not a good one. Maybe...Maybe you can guess. Here's a clue.

Crossroad Demons.


	8. Deal or No Deal?

'I just..I need some time, that's all,' Quinn said, with a tender smile. They were in another motel, to no surprise, but they were in the same room, which had little rooms coming off of it with the beds inside. All three had agreed they should stick together. None of them had really showed any emotion, but they felt devastated inside. A big piece of their lives had been taken away.

Quinn began to think about her Mother, that evening, while she sat on the creaky single-bed in her room with her laptop. She'd left the picture of them all as her wallpaper. Sam told her to remember the happy moments, right?

Quinn thought of how selfish she'd been, when her Mom...

Quinn realized she hadn't even thought about her Mom. Sam and Dean had told them both that their father, John, wasn't the best parent, never had been. But, he was all they had, for a very long time. Emma was all Quinn and Ellie had had, until Sam and Dean came. Emma had never really been a parent, as she was always off, doing 'work'. That was one thing the four of them had in common. Absent parents. And Quinn had never missed her, always knew Emma would come home, because she had, safe and sound, for a long time. Sixteen years, to be exact. And now, with Emma gone, Quinn wished she'd cared more.

In fact, Quinn wished she'd actually cared. She blinked away the tears in her eyes and pulled her headphones on. She went onto _8Tracks_, and resumed a playlist. The website ran, even with the horrible internet they had in the motel. Quinn didn't care if the music would burst her eardrums, for she had more important things to worry about than loss of hearing.

She logged clicked onto Maps. She found where they were. Ellie's journal was open, by her side, again on the section regarding crossroad demons. Crossroads. Quinn was looking for them.

And, lo and behold, they passed one on the way to the motel. Quinn wasn't certain that what she was doing would make a difference. But she had to try.

She was going to go to a crossroad demon. She was going to try and find out if Ellie was alive. And, if not..Quinn would deal. She'd bargain. The tricky part was trying to find a way to sneak out, past Sam and Dean, and get to the crossroads. On top of that, Quinn had to take the things she needed from the Impala, unnoticed. It would all be worth it, in the end. She hoped. It would be okay, or it would go horribly wrong.

* * *

><p>The air was chilly. It was a good thing Quinn had layered up, or she might have retreated and waited for another time. But, she hadn't. Sam and Dean had fallen asleep. Both of them had, right on their beds. Quinn had prayed that they wouldn't wake up until she got back, as she would be at a loss for words if they found her while making a deal, or after. Quinn was terrified of what their reactions would be if they found out.<p>

Once both men were asleep for a good half an hour without stirring, Quinn packed the small bag the items she needed were in. Earlier that day, Dean was going to go get a gun from the Impala, as him and Sam were planning on going somewhere. Quinn had volunteered to get the gun, much to Dean's surprise, but he didn't object. Once outside, Quinn grabbed everything she needed. Everything was sorted into little boxes, with labels. Double-checking that she had everything, and the gun for Dean, she hurried inside, handing the pistol Dean requested to him. He nodded, smiling. Dean put it in his back pocket. A while later, they went off in the Impala, leaving Quinn behind after telling her to call them if anything happened.

So, that night, at around two, Quinn had everything she needed. She brought her knife in case. It was in her back sky was clear that night, the stars shining as bright as ever. Quinn grabbed one set of keys the receptionist had given them, gripping them tight, and turned the doorknob as quietly, and quickly as possible. Much to her relief, the doorknob made not one noise. The cold wind brushed off her face and she saw her breath coming out like ice in the cold night air. Quinn shut the door gently, and whipped out her phone as she began walking, looking at the picutre she took of the crossroad and the way to it. Finding the correct street sign, Quinn began up the road.

It was silent as Quinn buried the small wooden box in the ground. Once covered over, Quinn realized she didn't know what to say to whatever should appear. Looking all around her, Quinn was scared. This would seal her fate. This one conversation with a demon.

'Well, well, well,' a deep voice smirked. 'Ms. James. Getting along nicely, are we?'

Quinn turned around slowly, putting on her angriest face. She didn't know how to react, but, hopefully, anger and sarcastic remarks would help her.

'Who's asking?' Quinn snapped, stepping a bit closer but stopping after one or two short steps forward.

'Woah there, tiger,' the man said, putting out his hands and pretending to be shocked. He had black hair that flopped around his face. He was slightly tanned, wearing a faded jeans and t-shirt. 'I'm Griffin. Best meatsuit out there, when the time came around. No need to introduce yourself. You're supposed to be the friendly one.'

'I was until my sister was killed!' Quinn snarled, sneaking in the reason she was there.

'Oh, right,' Griffin sighed, slowly walking around Quinn. 'That one was an accident. Tabitha swore it.' Griffin stared at Quinn for a second, beginning to chuckle.

Quinn looked in his red eyes. She had never noticed them before, she had been too focused on the situation at hand. She wasn't particularly bothered by them at that moment, either. 'Why..the hell..are you _laughing_?' Quinn roared, completely losing her temper and forgetting why she was here. Quinn wasn't good at taking criticism and lost it when people laughed at her, no matter the reason.

'So, the rumours aren't true!' Griffin grinned, circling Quinn again. 'What has been going around, is that you more or less broke down after the dissappearance of poor little Ellie – which you've been doing anyway – but we didn't realise you thought she was _dead. _No, that sister of yours wouldn't go down without a fight.'

There was silence until Griffin spoke again. 'You have no idea how well-known you are around the circuit, do you? Sure, you've never hunted, but you're in with the Winchester boys. That gives you a pretty big reputation. Good or bad, you decide. But, after all this, you're pretty well-known downstairs. And..I suspect you're here to make a deal. Well, of course you are. Why else would you summon a demon? They brought me in, so it would be easier for you to make the deal. Y'know, since I'm a guy, and you'd have to make out with me to seal the deal. So, off you go. What do you want?'

'To make sure Ellie's okay,' Quinn said, keeping her head up.

'That's a pretty open-ended demand,' Griffin told her. 'Details?'

'That she's alive, that she's healthy,' Quinn said. Griffin thought for a second.

'I'm no angel. We don't have those special healing powers. But, I know people. I can make it happen, but it's a biggie. So...That'll be one soul? I don't suppose you have two handy.'

'When?' Quinn said, still trying to sound grown up. 'How long will I have?'

'..Well..' Griffin hesitated. 'I don't want to do this. I'm the nice demon downstairs, one of the few. But..I'll need it now. Like, right now. Or else, we can go our seperate ways. Your choice. I've given you your options.'

Quinn didn't know what to say, how to react, to say yes or no or 'I'll decide later'. She hesitated, looking down at the ground. She suddenly questioned all she had planned out in her mind. After a few seconds, Quinn slowly looked into the face of the demon. 'I..I cant.'

'Oh?' Griffin chuckled. 'Is that how much you care for your sister? You'd go and do something she'd kill you for, and turn it down? What, you wanted to see what making a deal was like?'

'_No,_' Quinn snapped. 'What's the point? If I'm gone and she comes back, she'll hate me, she'll hate herself.'

'Huh!' Griffin guffawed. 'You think I understand what humans feel? Like I said, this is a meat suit. And, I don't care for your relationships. I'm here to make a deal, take my offer or leave it. I'm the kind one, but I don't have much patience. And, kindness runs out.'

Quinn wasn't sure what to do. She didn't want to believe this was the last time she saw Sam and Dean, and that when Ellie got back Quinn would be gone. So, as a last resort, Quinn gripped her knife and slowly brought it back down to her side. Griffin looked at it.

'Ten years,' Quinn began to bargain.

'No way!' Griffin said, throwing his arms up in the air. 'Your soul isn't that valuable.'

'Five. One. Please..' Quinn begged. She slowly put the knife away. Quinn knew she wasn't going to get a deal.

'You really rustle my jimmies, you,' Griffin snapped. 'Here's the deal. I don't do this. I've never done it before. You don't deserve much time. Not any time, really. But...I have a weak spot for you. You'll get six months. Six months only. Nobody has ever done a deal like this, it's usually one year or none. Consier yourself lucky. Now, deal, or..no..deal?' Griffin growled.

Quinn was quiet. It wasn't the situation that scared her. It was the thought of her own death that chilled her to the bone. Knowing the exact day she would go cold terrified her. Quinn was trying as hard as possible to convince herself that if she said yes, she'd save her sister, which only costed the sacrifice of herself. But, Quinn couldn't find the bright side, if there was one. This needed to be done. It had to be...

'Deal. Six months.'

'Okay. Let's seal this puppy,' Griffin chuckled.


	9. Paint

While walking back to the motel, Quinn reached in her bag for her phone, and found she had missed six calls. All from Dean. _Shit_, Quinn thought. There was a text. _Where the hell are you?_ it read. Quinn felt horrible. She wasn't going to tell them. She'd already decided. Sam and Dean wouldn't know unless the time was right. And the right time would be the night before. Because, Quinn knew they'd try and stop the deal, and that couldn't happen.

Quinn began to run back. She missed the way her hair used to fly around her face when she ran, but it was too late now. It started spitting just as Quinn arrived at the motel. Taking a deep breath and reminding herself of the lie she hoped would convince the men, Quinn opened the door and closed it behind her. She turned and saw Dean hurrying towards her. When he stopped in front of Quinn, she could feel his breath on her face.

'What the hell were you thinking? You just left!' Dean shouted. Dean had never shouted at Quinn, and she was fearful of Dean. Quinn kept quiet, keeping her head down. She didn't like making people mad.

'You don't just disappear, you hear me? You tell us where you're going!' Dean growled.

Quinn felt tears pricking her behind her eyes, but she refused to cry. Sam had appeared now, standing beside Dean, both angry and upset at the same time.

'Quinn, what were you thinking?' Sam asked with a soft tone, as he usually would use. Quinn was wondering if they were going with the 'good cop, bad cop' tactic, but neither would have the patience. They were just calming down.

'I..' Quinn said, looking down at the carpet, wondering why she was lying to them. They were all she had left. 'I needed to get out. I just needed..'

Dean and Sam's faces both fell.

'Don't you ever do that again,' Dean said, still angry but his voice soft. Quinn wanted to tell them both, to explain everything that was going to happen. But she knew, somewhere inside her, that if she did tell them there would be no point in staying. All they'd see is a walking corpse, giving her sister borrowed time. They wouldn't see her as Quinn anymore. They'd see her as a hellhound's chew toy.

'I'm sorry, guys.' Quinn realized she couldn't get anything else out. She didn't know what to say, what to say to convince them she's okay, that she's coping, that there's nothing wrong. They saw past the act. But, for what reason she was acting, they didn't know.

Quinn walked past them both, hurrying to her room, and closing the door behind her. Exhaustion had taken over Quinn and she was beyond confused. She tossed her bag in the corner. It floated down to the carpet. There wasn't anything in it anymore, because Quinn had tossed the little brown wooden box in the nearest river. She didn't need it. Nobody would miss it. Quinn dropped down onto her bed, pulled the pillow close to her face and began to sob. She made sure to cry into her pillow, so neither of the boys outside her room would hear. After a while, she fell asleep, and didn't dream. Quinn was happy not to dream, as she knew her dreams would scare her more than reality would.

'Okay, she's sleeping,' Quinn heard Sam say, his voice muffled.

'Something's up with her, Sam,' Dean sighed. 'And it's not just Ellie and Emma.'

'What if..what if this is just her way of coping?' Sam wondered, but knew it wasn't true before the words left his mouth.

'Sam, did you see her? I mean, to anyone else, she'd just look sad, but..We know her better,' Dean began. He was quiet, took a breath, and continued. 'That..That girl that walked in isn't Quinnie. She'd never, never leave at night and not tell us. If she did, Quinn would have a good explanation.'

And so Quinn realized something. Even though she hadn't explained anything, they believed she wasn't herself. They wouldn't treat her the same. Oh, how Quinn wanted to admit everything and have them save her once again, but there was no saving her now.

It had been a month. A week before, Quinn, Sam and Dean had decided they would move into Quinn's old house, because they thought it would fix her. They hoped it would. And it worked. Quinn was happier to be home, to reminded of good memories, her family's scent, the things that made them happy. Sometimes, she'd forget the one thing that she wanted to forget the most, which made her happy too. And when it came creeping into her mind, the two people she loved the most and considered brothers would be there. Nobody knew about Ellie and Emma, and they were to keep it that way. Quinn was set to go back to school in a few days, even with her protests that she didn't need it.

Sam and Dean hadn't left once since Tabitha came. They'd turned the house into everyone's home. Dean and Sam had bought paint and redid Quinn's room. It was now a light green. For hours one day they'd been painting Quinn's room, and all three were messing around, splashing paint on each other. That was one of the first days Quinn had laughed in a long time. By midnight that day, Quinn's room was brand new. Light green walls, a bed with a white duvet that they'd found in the attic, her things put back where they're supposed to be. Another upside was that Sam and Dean decided to move in their beds. Sam was in one corner, Quinn next to the window and Dean in the furthest corner from the door, near the closet. Quinn knew they were doing this to keep an eye on her, but she thanked them for it. She wanted their company more than anything now.

At around one that morning, Quinn was lying in bed, unable to sleep. They'd gone to bed immediately after they'd finished decorating. But, Quinn couldn't shut her eyes for more than a few seconds at a time. Quinn rose from the bed, glancing at Sam, then Dean, to make sure she didn't wake them. She proceeded out the door and down the stairs, into the kitchen. They'd restocked the house earlier in the week. Quinn had insisted on getting some healthy foods, just so Sam would be happy. Dean grunted, but agreed. Now, Quinn opened the fridge, grabbed a Coke, and leaned against the counter. After a few minutes, and a lot of glances around the same room, Quinn opened the back door and stepped into the cold night air. She shivered, but soon got used to the cold, and stared up at the sky. Quinn had lost count of how long she'd been standing there when she noticed a shadow beside her. Quinn looked to her left and saw Sam standing there, looking up at the sky as she was.

'You should be sleeping,' Quinn said. Sam still had the paint-splattered v-neck on. His hair was a mess around his head, but Quinn liked it that way.

'So should you,' Sam chuckled. 'You're just a kid.'

'Sam, I'm sixteen,' Quinn protested. 'And I've seen more. More than most adults. Just saying.'

'Me too. Something we have in common, I guess,' Sam smiled as Quinn looked up at him. Quinn understood that he was trying to make her feel more comfortable, but she knew that he'd seen more than she ever would. 'C'mon, get inside.'

Quinn stepped back into the house, Sam trailing behind her. She looked at the kitchen and felt the urge to cook. Before she was forced to in school, and got in trouble for not having the exact ingediants. She wanted to cook for herself.

Herself and Sam slumped upstairs, both of them tired. Sam fell down onto his bed and kicked the door closed. Quinn flopped down onto her mattress and breathed out, when something soft hit her on the head. She reached up to grab whatever hit her and found herself holding a small teddy with a blue hat and pyjamas. She looked up and heard a chuckle across the room.

'Take it,' Dean mumbled. 'I don't want it. It's yours, anyway.'

So Quinn childishly held the bear close to her chest, and soon enough fell asleep, and didn't dream. She hadn't dreamt in a while and didn't want to, but if she dreamt and woke up with a nightmare at least she'd feel like she could just waste more time going to sleep. At least she'd feel sane.


	10. Secrets Kept Inside

'Are you _sure _you've got everything?' Sam shouted from the kitchen. He came running out as Quinn rushed downstairs and stopped at the front door, hand on the doorknob.

'Yes, I do,' Quinn answeed, for the millionth time that morning. Her schoolbag was empty and light on her back, containing only a pencil case and a couple of notepads.

Quinn James was heading for school.

Dean and Sam had agreed on it a few days after they'd moved back in. They didn't want her to just waste her life because of what they do. Sam wanted her to become something, and Quinn knew the reason for that. She knew about Standford University and law school. She didn't know much else, though. But, after enogh persuasion, Quinn was heading off to her old school, knowing her old friends would try and get Quinn to explain why she didn't show up anymore and why her hair was short.

Quinn realized that morning she was excited to go back to school, no matter how much she'd hated it before, when people bullied her and stole her money and her books. Quinn had something in the bottom of the bag, no matter how safe she felt. It was Dean's, and Quinn was sure he wouldn't miss it. She'd give it back when asked to.

Dean came downstairs, wiping the sleep from his eyes, having only gotten up now, and asked Quinn where she was going.

'School. Y'know, that place that teaches you stuff you don't need to know about?' Quinn chuckled. 'Ring any bells?'

'Yeah, sure,' Dean yawned, running his hand through his hair. 'I'll pick you up later, or something. Impress everyone with baby.'

'Sure. Bye!' Quinn mumbled, rushing out the front door. Just before she closed it, Quinn turned around to look at them, and said, 'Don't worry. I'm not going to die.' She then realized that she had half an hour to walk to school, sighed, closed the door and ran.

'Quinn?' She said over the noise of the cafeteria. 'Quinn?'

Quinn suddenly snapped back into reality. 'Huh? What? Sorry.'

Quinn and a group of old friends were sitting near the entrance of the cafeteria, as Quinn needed food and they all decided there was nowhere else to go. They had many questions they wanted answers to and Quinn wasn't prepared to answer them.

'What the Hell happened to you?' One of Quinn's closest friends, Caitlin, asked. 'You didn't call! We were worried sick!'

Quinn chuckled, stabbing her fries with a tiny plastic fork. 'It's a long story. It doesn't really matter. Sorry about not calling or anything, I just didn't really have the time.'

Dylan, the biggest idiot Quinn ever knew, spoke next. 'We're up for long stories. Well, I am. So?'

'Well, um, Ellie..And Mom..' Quinn sighed. 'They've gone off on a..road-trip, sort of thing. They didn't want to screw up school for me. I wasn't bothered to come, really. They've been going away for a while now, so I'm used to it. This one's..it's big, apparently. They won't be back for a while. I'm staying with family friends now.'

'Are they the ones with the old-ass car?' Dylan laughed. Everyone was starting to file out of the cafeteria now.

'It's not old..much. And it's a Chevrolet. Appreciate it,' Quinn chuckled. 'And how do you know what car they have?'

'I do have to, like, pass by your house on the way home, you know. You don't live in complete isolation,' Dylan told her.

'Shut up,' Quinn laughed. 'Okay, let me go to the bathroom. I'll see you guys in class.'

Quinn rose from the picnic benches and hurried down the hallway. As she entered the bathroom, she realized she came here to get away from everything, splashing water on her face and rubbing it with her sleeve.

The bell was about to ring. Quinn looked in the mirror once more, tousled her hair and pushed the door open. Just stepping up to the door was a guy just around her height, with black hair and freckles and plaid. He stepped to the side and let Quinn pass through.

'Thanks,' Quinn muttered. She began down the hallway just as the first bell went.

'You seriously don't recognise me?' The boy chuckled. 'These meat suits let me be more incognito than I should be allowed to be. I should use them more often. Is there a rent service?'

'..I'm sorry..I don't know who you are,' Quinn rose an eyebrow. 'Should I?'

'Oh, I'm sorry. I'm being too polite. And yes, you should.' The man took a few steps closer to Quinn. 'I'll give you one clue. Crossroads.'

No. Not now. Quinn's life was normal. This was the only time she had to be normal. There was only three months left.

'Griffin.'

'You betcha.' And his eyes flashed black.

And Quinn started running. Griffin ran after her.

Quinn didn't even care about class anymore. She sprinted to the front doors and threw them open, steping out into the sunlight. Her first intention was to head home, because Sam and Dean would know what to do. She whipped out her phone as she ran, dodging cars and heading down streets she never found before. From behind her, she could hear Griffin taunting her.

'Aww, why you running, sweetheart? Stop and smell the roses!' Griffin shouted mockingly. Quinn turned around and there was no sign of him. Quinn began to breath again, believing she'd stopped. Although happy her pursuer had disappeared, she was not convinced. And she had good right not to be.

'I won't disappear that easily,' he smirked. 'We just want to have a lil' chat, that's all.' Quinn stood frozen in her place. She would give Griffin a chance to explain why he was after her. But, all the while, Quinn was trying to remember where her knife was in her schoolbag.

'Hey!' Griffin yelled, making Quinn jump. 'You can stop hiding now, I got her.'

Out came a long-haired, dark-skinned woman, around five years older than Quinn, from an alleyway. There was a broad smile across her face, as if she'd be wanting to meet me. And Quinn knew who she was, just because she was with Griffin.

Tabitha had been wanting to meet her.

Quinn sucked in her breath so she wouldn't lash out and try to kill her. She could picture it, herself sprinting over to Tabitha and ripping out a knife. She hid her anger well.

'I've been wanting to meet you, Quinnie, ever since I slit your family's throats,' Tabitha smiled sadistically. 'How were they, by the way? I've heard I just missed the party. But, now, I brought champegne. We're going to have a right chat.'

'What did you want with them?' Quinn snapped, annoyed by the use of 'Quinnie', something she only allowed her family to call her.

'All those times they were gone, for weeks at a time, they were looking for me. Your family has a history of deals, just like your buddy's do. Sam and..Dean, is it?' Tabitha continued, swaying from side to side. 'Out on one of those jobs, when you were at home, sobbing your eyes out, little Ellie got hurt. Real bad. So bad, that your Mother Dearest went to talk to me, with the exact same deal that you made. You weren't told that, were you? They never tell you anything.'

'What does this have to do with me?' Quinn said. 'That's them. That's over.' She swallowed quietly, trying to keep her stern look and hoping she was convincing them that Quinn was as hard as she made out to be.

'It's not over. It will never be over,' Tabitha snapped. 'They thought, that if they killed me, the deal wouldn't go through and all of you would be safe at home. It doesn't work like that. I was surprised the Winchesters didn't tell them that they learnt that lesson the hard way. Ellie and Emma found me, all right. They just didn't realize I had company.'

'And what company is that?' Quinn asked, expecting Griffin to pipe up and feel proud that he helped. He actually stayed silent, glaring at Quinn as if she'd done something wrong.

'I got our King on my side. I'm his right hand man. Well..girl. I got the damn King of Hell to come and help out. He should've come, but he had a bunch of contracts to file. Yours included. Those Winchesters of yours have been hiding more from you than you know. Demons, angels, all of it. They never mentioned them to anyone. We're here to give you a sneak pea-'

There was silence, and Tabitha began to look angry and Griffin backed away. Quinn didn't turn around because she knew what was behind her. Not the King of Hell, not Ellie.

'You _bitch!' _Tabitha shrieked.

And the phone fell from Quinn's hand.


End file.
